


Sweet Dreams

by rentskenobi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Insomnia, Pining, Practice fighting, Tiny bit of Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Training, Training with obi wan, obi wan being cute, reader being tired af and in need of a good sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:01:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29899425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rentskenobi/pseuds/rentskenobi
Summary: You’re tired after a long day training with Obi Wan, and he notices
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader
Kudos: 34





	Sweet Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> It’s fluffy af, hope yous enjoy :)

‘Concentrate!’

Obi-Wan’s voice cut through your breathless haze, the sharpness of his tone jarring you into reality. Your eyes widened as you sensed the fist flying towards your face, steady, calculated; a classic manoeuvre from one Obi-Wan Kenobi.

You managed to duck just in time and roll across the training room floor, away from the attack.

‘You're not concentrating! This is why you need more hand to hand practice, my love.’

Obi smirked teasingly as he stalked towards you. He was relaxed, languid almost, but you knew that behind his nonchalant demeanour Obi was coiled like a spring, always ready, always thinking of his next move. He was an experienced warrior and it showed. Your late night training sessions with him had improved your skills massively, despite only having had them for a week so far.

Obi was a harsh training partner, wanting to get the best out of you with every practice. You appreciated his efforts, you really did. But it was hard work, and the late nights were beginning to get to you.

You clashed again. Jab, duck, kick, jab, parry, roll, the cycle repeated over and over again, the exchange of blows like a conversation between your bodies. You knew each other well, inside and outside of the training room, every curve and plane of your body ingrained in Obi’s brain, just as the give and feel of Obi’s skin and muscle was imprinted in yours. You could predict the familiar pattern of your partner’s attack, able to read each other’s actions like a storybook, blocking’s punches before they were even thrown.

You held up Obi’s attack well, neither of you able to gain the upper hand. A strong hit sent you reeling suddenly, and you both pulled back to catch your breath, panting and sweating.

Obi circled you, prowling, cat-like, but still ready like a coiled spring. His tousled hair had fallen into his eyes and he pushed it back quickly with a steady hand, the action second nature to him. How he looked this good after hours of training you would never know, auburn hair darkened with sweat, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes, yet that easy grin was always there, showing a questionable amount of teeth. But he looked good. The man was a god, that was the only explanation.

No, you thought, no distractions.

‘Give up, Obi, you’ve had enough, I can tell.’

His chuckled lowly, his eyes shining, completely comfortable in the heat of a battle, even if it was just training.

‘Oh, darling, I could do this all day,’

That dreaded smirk crept across his face again. ‘You really have no idea.’

His eyes flashed with mischief a split second before he lunged forward. Your sense through the force had let you down and, for once, you didn’t have time to react before Obi crashed into you, hands gripping your waist and his weight pushed you to the floor. Oh no.

Now his thighs were straddled over your hips, pinning you down securely. Bastard. He’s beaten you again.  
The bastard in question looked down at you, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face as the realisation of his victory sunk in. Delight sparkles in his bright eyes and you smile before you could help yourself. The happiness radiating off him was just infectious.

‘What’s it like down there, little one?’

The smile was immediately wiped off your face as you worked to look annoyed, huffing loudly.

‘Shut up, Obi.’

‘I bet you love it.’ You could feel his hot breath tickling your neck as he leaned closer.

Well you were enjoying it actually, the position was warm, comfortable and it was unsurprisingly pleasant to have Obi’s muscled frame hanging over you, his chest almost brushing yours as he took in deep breaths. But he didn’t need to know that.

You reached and pushed his chest back so he was once again perched upright over you. He frowned slightly, searching your face for any signs of playfulness, but there was nothing there.

‘You’re tired.’ he hummed, pushing the strands of auburn hair back from his forehead again.

‘I’m really tired.’ you confirmed with another sigh.

The pale skin around Obi’s eyes crinkled as he smiled fondly down at you. All traces of competitiveness had disappeared now that the session was over, replaced by a warm feeling of content that filled your chest and bubbled in your throat as you hazily took in the man above you. Your eyes locked with Obi’s and you could feel the same emotions running through his body too, the sensation pulsing steadily across your force connection.

The temptation to kiss him there and then flashed through your mind, but as you leaned up to get closer, the muscles in your back screamed in agony, hours of use and wear catching up with you now.

Obi noticed the grimace of pain appear on your face and he frowned again, smoothing your hair back from your face in a comforting manner.

‘I’m sorry, darling,’ he chuckled softly, ‘I think I may have worked you too hard.’ There was still a subtle teasing lilt to his voice, but you chose to ignore it, the fatigue and pain dimming your awareness slightly.

‘No, no, I think it’s just my back, let me see,’ you countered, not willing to admit too much weakness. After such a simple defeat, that would just be adding insult to injury.

You stood shakily, reaching for your water, but your legs were like jelly, muscles protesting at the movement and you stumbled as the pain shot through you. But Obi’s hand was already steady on the small of your back, the other skimming your shoulder, supporting you so you wouldn’t fall.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just your back. Tiredness was creeping up on you, eyelids beginning to droop and a yawn forcing its way out your mouth. The effects of a whole week of intense late night training were finally taking their toll on you.

Obi whispered in your ear again, but this time the tone was caring, not teasing.

‘Here, my love. Let me help you.’

He gently scooped you up in his arms. The fatigue had come over you like a tidal wave and you were too exhausted to argue, instead wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing yourself to melt into his warm tunic.

He grabbed your cloaks from the corner and headed towards the door.

‘I really am sorry if I’ve worked you too hard the past few days, love.’

‘S’okay, Obi, don’t worry ‘bout it.’ you mumbled faintly into his chest.

He was so soft and warm and Maker he smelt amazing: an intoxicating mixture of cinnamon and pine.

‘Hey, don’t go falling asleep yet, I’ve got to get you to bed first.’ Obi whispered.

There was no reply from you, only a quiet sigh and Obi rolled his eyes fondly. He moved down the corridors as quickly as he could. The temple was fairly quiet at this time of the night but there was still that lingering worry in the back of Obi’s head, the fear of being caught. He was almost sure that the sight of you half asleep and clinging to his torso would be seen as attachment.

Which of course it was. How could his love for you not be. This burning hot love, so tender yet so strong, this love that consumed him like a wildfire and flooded his mind like a tsunami, how could this not be attachment?

In fact it was more than that, more than just a connection, physical or emotional. It was like you were part of each other, two sides of the same whole, predicting each other’s thoughts, ideas. Obi had noticed it more than ever during the training sessions, how you would know where his leg or arm was heading before he even moved. It was something powerful. You two were a force to be reckoned with. If only you could concentrate, Obi mused silently.

He reached your quarters and nudged the door open, pushing his elbow firmly against the light switch in an attempt to chase away the darkness without jostling you. Obi crouched by your bed and lowered you gently onto the soft sheets.

‘Let go, sweetheart.’ he murmured, as your arms were still clinging to his neck. When no response came his way, Obi delicately pried your hands away, placing a soft kiss on each of your knuckles before laying your arms down.

He leant back, causing a small whimper to escape your mouth, a reaction to the loss of contact. Obi hushed you gently, pulled the sheets around your shoulders and tucking them in securely.

His lips glided over your forehead, pressing a chaste kiss there, before moving down to your cheeks, placing a gentle kiss on each one, his eyelashes brushing your skin as he leant down. A peck on your nose, each touch a silent ‘I love you’ and then finally his lips on yours, tender, gentle, comforting.

You hummed softly, drifting in and out of consciousness as your mind dipped beneath the waves of sleep.

A hand stroked your hair carefully, drifting down over your shoulder, brushing featherlight over your forearm.

‘Sleep well, little one.’

Obi backed slowly away from your bedside, quietly flicking off the light. He looked back at your sleeping form. Should he stay? Should he curl up with you until the morning and kiss all of your aches away? He wanted to, with every fibre of his being.

But he couldn’t risk it, as much as he wanted to. You looked peaceful and he wanted to keep you that way.

‘Sweet dreams.’


End file.
